The Reflection of Human Perception
by SpeakingThroughWrittenWords
Summary: How the country conflicts with the person reflected inside. One Shots. Implied rape, self abuse, drug usage... and other things which appear in history. Chapter Twenty Seven: Marcus knew he was free the moment Rome was trapped.
1. America

Alfred never cries, because America tells him that is not how a hero should act.

Alfred hates the word hero. Maybe he would not, not from what he knows a real hero to be, but because of what America tells him it is he does. He hates it with a passion. He wants to hurt himself when the other says it. The way it falls off his lips.

There were the times he did. He said hero once and then slammed his head in the car door. He heard England's alarmed voice and Canada's concerned tone. Not that it mattered much. Because America was fine. He would tell them so. And America would tell Alfred that a hero never cries. Not alone, but especially not in front of his friends.

But America had told him heroes did not have friends. Heroes did not have friends and therefore neither did America.

Alfred hates America. He hates him so much.

But then through something he will be reminded of World War Two. When through America's selfish independence from the rest of the world would not help until they were hit.

Alfred stared at the ruins of Pearl Harbor and cried.

"I will fix this," America promised him. "Japan will regret this. He'll regret this before I slaughter him."

Alfred wondered what was wrong with him that he would be comforted by this. _"But... a hero gives second chances."_

America paused, while tears still fell from Alfred's cheeks, and thought about it. Thought about something someone else said for once because Alfred never used the word hero against him. Alfred tried to never say the word hero at all. Alfred hated the word with a passion.

"And I'm a hero."

"_Yeah."_

"But a hero to my people first."

"_So he'll still pay."_

It was that one time when they agreed that keeps Alfred in the future from killing America. When America smiles, assures everyone everything is fine. When America ignores the troubles he has created. Alfred would hold his neck, staring at the mirror and trying to imagine America looking back at him. America struggling.

But America never struggles against him. America gives him his free will, his free choices, freedom. And just as Alfred is about to let cut wrists flow into the bathtub he is reminded how much of it is _his_ fault. His, not America's. And so he ends up wrapping up those wrists.

Because a hero does not call for help, after all.

And that thought just makes Alfred scream and throw his furniture against the wall, break the dishes, television, the windows. He leaves America to clean it up himself.

America does so cheerfully, as he always does. Alfred wants to cry.

America reminds him that heroes do not cry. And Alfred agrees. Someone once said there was no way to stay neutral on a moving train. But there is nothing else to do but agree against the brick wall in the center of the moving train. Whichever side he was on, there was nothing left to do but agree that there was the brick wall.

America tells Alfred that heroes never cry. America's heroes never cry, anyway.

Alfred has a new reason to cry. Not for himself any longer. He wants to cry for America. No one ever has and America needs someone to.

Alfred wants to cry so as to remind America that they are more than a nation, to remember Human.


	2. Russia

Ivan barely remembers what year it is. Russia never tells him.

Russia does not tell him anything. Ivan will find himself somewhere he does not recognize with people he does not know and know that Russia has been here many times, has talked to these people before. Because he knows this Ivan stays quiet.

There are the people he does remember. Sometimes Ivan speaks to them, but it is not often. If he says too much Russia will realize what has happened and take over once again.

They do not share this body. Ivan is pushed to the back and barely sees the world except for through twisted passions in Russia's head.

Ivan enjoys the sun against his face. The wind, the rain, even the snow. Anything which means he is free for a few moments from Russia's grip. More often it is the snow he sees. Ivan does not mind, he loves the snow. As much as Russia hates it, Ivan loves the snow.

Ivan understands why Russia hates the snow. Russia cannot get away from it. Russia will always be trapped in the white blanket. Ivan can see the appeal of the field of sunflowers. At least, he could imagine. He has never seen a sunflower before. Russia refuses to let him take a single moment of the sight away from him. Ivan is acceptant of this. He can survive in the snow.

Sometimes it becomes cold, but Ivan never feels it. Russia would never leave his survival in Ivan's hands. Ivan cannot understand why. It is not like Ivan wishes to die.

Ivan remembers a time when he and Russia got along. Ivan did not always agree with everything that Russia did, but they could compromise so both could get what they wanted. So while Russia wanted Lithuania, Ivan made certain that the other was comfortable.

Russia wanted to claim Lithuania. And Ivan grew to love Lithuania.

"_You're cold,"_ Ivan frowned.

"No, no, I am fine Mr. Russia," Lithuania smiled, consoling, considering, caring. Ivan could try and imagine Russia's sunflowers as Lithuania smiled. Russia would falter in the simple thought of his sunlit days and Ivan would move a little closer.

"_Nonsense,"_ Ivan removed his scarf (or was it really Russia's? Ivan inwardly hoped Ukraine had given it to him, not the other) and began to wrap it gently around Lithuania. Lithuania stiffened slightly, but then relaxed. _"Zere. I von't have you uncomfortable vhile you're here. I vant you staying. I don't ask for much, da?"_ he smiled.

"No, it's not," Lithuania's eyes followed the ghost of his breath as it drifted upwards and disappeared. Ivan would move a little closer.

Ivan wondered what something away from Russia would be like. Unfortunately he never had the opportunity. There would, there could never be one.

"_Vhy does it always end up like zis...?"_ Ivan knew how hard he worked. He knew how hard Russia worked. Nothing seemed to make any difference. They always seemed to return to this. To the blame. It hurt Ivan. It hurt Russia more. Ivan could not think of anything to make the other feel better. He could barely recognize Lithuania's presence.

"I finally made zis nation stronger and more prestigious than others by myself... I vorked so hard... vhy is it zat nothing goes right?"

"_Vhy do zey always end up hating me?"_ The words slipped out before he could stop them. Russia began to cry.

"Everyone says it's my fault."

"_My fault,"_ Ivan protested, crying as well.

"I've endured it for centuries."

"_Vhy can't everyone just get along nicely with each ozer?"_

Russia suddenly had an idea. Ivan tried to scream that it was the wrong one. But that was the day he was permanently shoved into the recesses of Russia's mind.

"Hey Lizuania," Russia turned. The last clear memory Ivan had was of Lithuania's face.

Ivan finds himself free at random moments. Free for a few minutes, free for a few days. Never for very long. Always far between.

Ivan does not know what year it is, but that is not what bothers him most.

Ivan barely remembers what time of day it is. And Russia is ever silent except for his laughter.

* * *

_Edited: Put in accent._


	3. Canada

Matthew is afraid of the temper he knows he has. Thankfully Canada is always calm.

Matthew has no idea when he realized just how nasty he could be. He and Canada could very easily take anything from the world. They took a lot, or nothing, as the case may be. England and France soon forgot about them when Canada had asked for his independence. But Matthew remembers Canada and Canada remembers Matthew.

_Remembered_ Matthew. Maybe that is when Matthew began loosing his temper.

As a nation is, Matthew is quite aware that Canada is always be beyond him in some way. Matthew does not mind this. Matthew and Canada are similar in the fact that being overlooked only means they are both able to relax more. Not time for pranks or manipulations, neither of them are like that. Matthew believes this completely. He has never seen Canada do anything untoward while they were ignored. He remembers Canada and Canada remembers him after all, and Matthew is certain that is all they need.

It is when Canada begins to talk and instead of letting Matthew speak his mind continue on his own path that Matthew begins to feel sick.

There was the moment when he told Canada to let him speak.

"Who?"

Matthew began screaming at him. Screaming until his voice was hoarse and Canada was apologizing. Saying he was tired, making up excuses. Matthew knows when Canada is tired and it was not then. Canada lies to make him feel better, but as Matthew knows when he is lying it simply proceeds to infuriate him more.

It always takes a while for Matthew to calm down. In case of a situation which might set himself into the lime light Canada softly pushes Matthew into the back so he can seethe in privacy.

Matthew finally realizes that Canada has always pushed him towards loosing his temper. That Canada wants him to become so mad he cannot think straight. That Canada either thinks it is funny or rejoices in the fact one of them can shout until he is hoarse and send America to tears.

Matthew and Canada would listen to hours of commands before Matthew would suddenly snap.

"...and can you take this for me?" America leaned over and placed whatever it was on Canada's head. "Th–"

"_I don't belong to you!" _Matthew shouted, throwing it back at him. _"What is wrong with you, eh? Just because we happen to live on the same continent does not mean you can make me do whatever you want? Just because you use Cuba and Mexico and everyone else does not mean you can use me! I won't stand for it!"_

He could stop there, Matthew knew he could have. If Canada had told him that was enough he would have. If someone had been on his side, Canada could have stopped right there.

"_You demand that everyone do as you say as if it is everyone's choice not to have any choices! And you call yourself the country of free will! Only for yourself, eh? Do you have to force everyone to do what you want? I bet you'd fight me if you thought you could get away with it, eh! Just for one stupid thing. It's the principle of the thing, isn't it? Someone turns you down you have to make them regret it. But not by being intelligent – oh no, that's too difficult for you! You have to bug them, insult them, hurt them just to get what you want and guess what? Not everyone's going to take that from you forever. I'm certainly not taking that now, eh! You aren't God, you're just another country! One that makes more mistakes than what your stupid image could show if you had even decided to be honest! Why don't you try being honest for once America? Why don't you–"_

And America left. Canada did a wonderful job of watching the changes of expressions on his face, taking note of the hurt, and then continuing to shout after him as he ran.

It is only after Matthew can no longer see America's face does he realize how harsh his words are, how much he has exaggerated and the parts which are just the truth. The truth which America needs to know to change for the better. Not that any change can come from such an angry and hurtful way of showing it to him.

It always pleases Canada when America runs away. Matthew is always shocked and appalled at all what he has said. After hours of shouting at America his temper suddenly disappears as if it had never been there.

"_America, please come back! I'm sorry! I'm sorry..."_ Matthew called, but America was gone.

Canada laughed.

Canada never angers someone deliberately, Matthew realizes. It is always through his temper Canada gets his revenge.

Canada uses him to get his guilt free revenge. Matthew cannot say anything about this. Whenever he tries to, he becomes angry.

Matthew becomes _so_ angry.

Matthew is afraid of the temper he has, but is now afraid of Canada more.

* * *

_France will be next, as per request. Then the Italians in whichever order I put them up. I have a few others finished, but I think I will continue to take them by request. I like it that way.  
_


	4. France

Francis wishes nothing more than to enjoy life. Always, France then shows him his reflection.

He looks the same as France, that much is a given. The long blond hair, the facial hair France had said would make him look older, those blue eyes...

It is his eyes which France always shows him. Shows him with his apologies and regrets. Shows him and Francis knows France wishes he could find some way of making it up to him. The one thing Francis has always wished for has always been denied to him. And as the years continue, it becomes a memory farther and farther away.

There are the arguments. Francis usually does not mind France's arguments. Most of them are done in as good as a humour as Francis likes his arguments. If another even knew Francis existed it would still be difficult to discern when it was France making an argument or when it was Francis.

Most of these arguments are with England. Francis likes England, the man is never boring. The difficult part is deciding whether or not England hates him or not – out of everyone England is the hardest to be able to decipher when it comes to this small subject. Not that the outcome would make much of a difference. France and England would still act the same towards each other. Francis might not be able to, if he discovered England hated him.

"A little question to you, my precious limey," France laughed. England scowled. England was very good at scowling.

"What do you want now, France?" England retorted. He was only pretending to want to go back to his tea, Francis and France were sure. England could never refuse a moment of trying to win an argument.

"_I think your eyebrows grow the same way as your hair. If you were to trim them, you might actually have a decent face,"_ Francis put forth his two cents.

England slammed down his cup. "Don't get me started on hair! Have you ever noticed your beard fails to have anything in common with the hair on the top of _your_ head?"

France gasped. Such a low blow! Francis took up his slack.

"_Well... You are probably right. Your eyebrows probably don't have the same consistency as the rest of your hair. It would probably break anything that tried to cut it. My apologies for bringing up such a hopeless dream."_

"You git."

Francis laughed. "I do try," France intervened.

Unfortunately, there are France's arguments Francis is a bit more mindful of. Those arguments are also typically had with England.

These ones end up with some sort of bodily fluid being shed. Francis never knows which comes more often, blood or semen. He would laugh at his little joke if it were not so sick. France has no such reservations and laughs anyway.

Francis became sick of the fighting first. He always wishes it will end. Even when France became powerful and in command, Francis wanted it over.

Soon enough, it was.

"Shouldn't you be struggling? Unless you really want this, that is," France laughed into England's ear, where he was pinned down by France's entire body.

"Fucking frog..." Just as asked England tried to move, but only proceeded to excite France further. Another laugh, bringing France's mouth down on England's neck to incite the moan they knew would come when he sucked him right... there, yes there. England moaned just as France and Francis knew he would.

"Well, if you insist," France smirked, right before getting kicked in the stomache. The surprise attack pushed him off of England and to the floor, where England easily straddled him.

"I _insist_," England hissed, ripping off France's trousers and proceeding to make the Frenchman squirm in a most undignified way.

All the while Francis watched. Getting his kicks off of England's suffering – out of England's control.

It was disgusting. Because of this Francis does not believe he could ever be friends with England as he used to wish for. Friends like he is with Spain?

No. Not Spain. Not that Francis does not like Spain. The country was a good country and had some of the similar qualities he did, one of which was the wish to live a carefree life. Spain seemed to be succeeding in this respect and Francis could not be any more happy for him.

France likes him as well. But, as always for a country, there is more there than just this. Being friends is never enough and trying to get more from Spain had become instinct as it was with everyone else.

Francis would always watch, unable to look away.

France cannot help himself. Francis understand this. If it were only France who were doing these things, Francis might be able to look away. But that is not the case.

Francis fell long ago to curiosity and is now as drugged to France's actions as France is.

Sometimes he finds himself committing the actions instead of France. And France watches him with the same fascination. The same fascination, but none of the same reservations.

"I am sorry. Truly, I am sorry for you."

"_I know."_

Francis cannot enjoy life, knowing everything he has done. The things he could not help, the things he could, and everything France has ever done which has been burned permanently into Francis' mind through those eyes. Those eyes he cannot help but always look out of.

Francis cannot enjoy life while looking and France's guilt helps nothing.


	5. Romano

Lovino needs to get beyond his past fears. Romano will not let him.

Lovino is so sick and tired of clinging on to people, of pushing people away. Letting his fears get the best of him as they have for his entire life. He knows that if he tries, he can get over this. If he tries someday he will be able to stand on his own as he wants and maybe someday begin to trust one person. Maybe. For there is no one he trusts now.

Romano scoffs at the idea. First of all, Romano knows (says he knows) that there is no one else to trust. Everyone will leave them in the end. Everyone has their own agenda. Even their brother Veneziano will try and use them.

Second of all, Romano says that Lovino trusts him.

Lovino does not. Not one bit. Not someone who can hate so readily. Not someone who will not let him try to grow up.

Romano has not changed since they were young. Lovino knows he used to be exactly like him. Even after realizing who he was, they were almost the same person. It took time, so much time, for Lovino to notice the world around them, for Lovino to begin trying to comprehend what was going on in other people's minds. That maybe they were not as two dimensional as Romano believed.

Romano will not even try to think this way. He cannot. Or will not.

Lovino finds that Romano is a bit two dimensional. Unless the other is hiding another side from him as well. Lovino finds this difficult to believe.

His difficulty in believing things comes from Romano. Lovino hates it.

He also hates hating. It took Lovino a long time to realize how hypocritical that was.

He hates fear. He hates people. He hates that he is scared of people. Romano does not help, hissing what they will all do, what they are all capable of, what they will do to them if either of them let their guards down for even an instant.

Lovino might wonder how Romano could live with such frustration if he was not so frustrated himself.

His brother. Veneziano. Lovino feels Romano's jealousy burn every time someone mentions North Italy, every time he sees the other. Lovino used to feel this jealousy too. It seemed justified for a while, because Veneziano always seems as if he is just as useless as Lovino knows himself and Romano to be.

But Veneziano is not as useless. And Lovino can see the hand being outstretched to help him, if only he accepted. And oh, how he wants to take that hand and be helped so he can begin to help himself and become able to stand on his own two feet.

But Romano scoffs and swipes at the help and Lovino feels as if they are simply crawling to get away. Crawling, because the help is still in sight and disappearing so slowly.

Lovino finds himself crying sometimes. Romano cannot stop him from crying, because that would mean the other had some sort of strength within him and Lovino knows very well that he does not. Romano knows as well, which is why he cries as well.

"Romano, what's wrong?"

"_G_o _a_w_a_y_!_" both Romano and Lovino say to Spain. Because Lovino is well trained in this denial as well. Because out of all people, Lovino does not want Spain to see him cry.

Spain sees him cry all the time. Lovino wishes he could cry _to_ him. Be comforted. Be helped in a way which would actually strengthen him.

Romano shies away from it, insults, insults, insults. All Romano knows how to do is insult.

All Lovino knows how to do is insult, but he knows he could try and do something else if only he was given the opportunity. And Lovino chokes when he realizes that Romano thinks the same.

Romano knows what is wrong with him and cannot stop himself.

Lovino still cannot pull himself to forgive him.

Lovino wants, needs, to be able to trust. Romano is not the only thing keeping him from doing so.

* * *

_I am working on Veneziano next, followed by the request for South Korea! No idea when I will get them up, but I will, no worries. Anyone want to hear about England in the meanwhile?  
_


	6. England

Arthur hates how England uses, how England wants to be used.

He would come to, finding himself in another place he did not want to be, either by his terms or none. Stumbling, it would be Arthur who would cast himself from the bed and into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. The problem was the person he really did not want with him was the one locked in with him. Locked under his skin. Wanting the things which Arthur was disgusted with.

He threw up into the sink, resting his head against the faucet.

"_Please, I don't want to do this anymore..."_

Looking up into the mirror, he would see England. First it was Arthur's panicked and sickened face, then England's smirk.

"But there is nothing wrong. Nothing at all."

With that, England would clean himself up. Rid himself of all traces of the night before and of this morning. Arthur screamed in his mind. England went to go find his clothes.

Using was second nature to them both and Arthur hates himself for that. Sometimes, just sometimes, when England looks over his shoulder, he will hate himself for that as well.

Then there is when Arthur still has the strength to fight. When he still has the ability to get away, the ability to do anything. There was those times when he is still able. And England would give in.

It was often for France. Arthur does not hate France as much as England does. Because Arthur can not help but wonder whether there is a Francis Bonnefoy as much as there is an Arthur Kirkland. Therefore, he can not hate him completely.

So how come when Arthur could still fight, England would give in.

"I knew you would," France scoffed, while those perfect hands undressed him easily, caressing him.

Arthur wanted to grab those hands, to tell him to stop, and to tell him there is another way to go about this.

England lied there and took it, trying his best to scowl with his hands tied behind his back. "Get it over with then."

A hand gripped him and he bit back a moan. A matter of pride. Both Arthur's and England's.

But England did not want France to get it over with. He wanted him now. He wanted France to do every single thing he can think of to him. The rest was just a show. A play where he pretended to be the unwilling. Where he pretended he wants to be anywhere but here.

Maybe the role was inspired by Arthur. There was no better character to learn than the one that was yourself.

"Don't hold yourself back on my account," France laughed, a kiss to his cheek because he knew perfectly well a kiss to the mouth would instigate biting. England's little game. Arthur hated using his teeth in such a fashion.

"Drop dead, you bloody frog."

"Now, now, no need to be nasty." The look on France's face told him he knew of a much better time to become nasty and he was about to begin so.

England never wants to look at France when he takes him. Arthur does. Sometimes England wins, sometimes Arthur does. And when Arthur wins he almost hates himself more. He cannot keep quiet and he will watch the mixture of victory, satisfaction, and bliss on France's face.

Sometimes, afterward, Arthur will kiss France. Because he knows England does not want it, but England had already readied himself to be dominated and Arthur does not have to fight him to act if he still could by the end. And when he kisses France it almost seems worth it. Worth having sex with him, but not giving in for it. Not giving up after fighting him off.

"Well, well!"

"_Shut up,_" Arthur snorted, kissing him again.

Arthur used to scream at England when England would give up, give in, and be taken. But now... he wants it too. How twisted Arthur has become.

Worse than England, he has become.

Arthur hates that now whenever England is used, he wants it too.

* * *

_I read a story on aphkink-aid that was based on my chapters with England and France. It was absolutely wonderful, called An Antique Land. I very much recommend reading it._


	7. Veneziano

Feliciano and Veneziano agree on everything. Except Germany.

Feliciano does not know what to do about this. They have never argued before. Any conflicts which might have surfaced were easily smoothed over with going to out eat and apologies during painting. They usually come around to the same decision, the same conclusion. Always they are able to decide on one path and take it together.

Then along came Germany. Feliciano did not think things would change much. Feliciano liked Germany immediately. So did Veneziano. That was normal. Germany was strange, funny, and he tried so hard. They could see someone who needed their help and both threw themselves headlong into the project. None of that was surprising.

They became friends with Germany. Not completely surprising.

Feliciano has fallen in love with Germany. Veneziano is completely shocked. And somewhat angry.

Feliciano has no idea how to react. He has never seen Veneziano angry before. Veneziano has never really been angry. Veneziano does not seem to know what to do about it either.

"Just ignore it, okay? It'll be fine, just ignore it."

"_Ve... well..."_

"Please?"

"_Okay."_

But he cannot ignore this. He tries, but he knows he cannot ignore it. At the same time, Feliciano does not want to argue with Veneziano about this. He does not want to hurt Veneziano and Germany's friendship, he does not want to hurt Germany and his friendship.

"Germany! Germany! I brought the trunk, like you said," Veneziano began.

"_But it sort of broke on the way here..." _Feliciano finished with a shrug.

"So instead I put it all in that bag you had me carry!" Veneziano smiled widely.

Germany stared at him. "Ant... vhat about de equipment you vere carrying?"

Feliciano thought about it. _"Oh, I left that behind!"_

"**Italy!**"

"What?" Veneziano questioned, wincing at the volume. "I'm sorry! What?"

"_Germany, it's not that bad! I'm sorry!"_

Germany always forgives him. Feliciano takes a gloved hand in his own and wonders what it would be like to be able to touch Germany's hand in broad daylight. Other times he wonders what it would be like to kiss Germany while he lays besides him in Germany's bed.

Veneziano wants to be friends with Germany, but that is all. Friends. Considering how Germany reacts to friendship, it is probably for the best. Germany acts as if he does not know what to do with someone who simply wants to be his friend. Who is not expecting him to do more than just protect their friendship for the sake of it being the both of them. Germany is finally learning this concept. Feliciano knows that simply being friends is probably for the best.

Yet Feliciano cannot settle for that being all. He understands why Veneziano is reluctant, but at the same time Feliciano cannot help himself. Feliciano tries to explain it sometimes. One cannot control who they love, they just do. Feliciano believes this. So does Veneziano. But Veneziano holds on to something Feliciano is deciding to let go.

Feliciano wants Germany.

Veneziano wants something else.

And Feliciano does his best to do as he and Veneziano agreed. He will ignore it. Maybe it will go away? Feliciano knows better than to think he can mistake love as something else, but hopes for their sake maybe for once he has. Maybe this is not love and therefore Feliciano will outlive this moment. Outlive this feeling and he and Veneziano can reconcile.

But Feliciano does not even know if he wants this to be true. Does he want to reconcile with Veneziano if that means he cannot be closer to Germany?

Feliciano has no other words for it. There is nothing he can say to try and explain his feelings to Veneziano. Veneziano has always understood his feelings before, it has never been necessary to try and explain them.

"_I know you miss him."_

Silence.

"_I do too."_

"Funny way of showing it."

And it hurts. It hurts because Feliciano knows that it is true. Maybe if he missed him more than he would not want Germany as badly as he wants him now.

Feliciano has never been good at holding back. Oh, but now he tries so hard.

Feliciano loves Germany. Veneziano remembers the Holy Roman Empire.


	8. Korea

Yong Soo struggles to keep Korea smiling.

Someone has to.

Korea has given up. Given up wanting respect, love, attention. Yong Soo has the firm belief they should not give up. He does not know when he began thinking this way, but it began to be the only thing he is certain about. They cannot give up, they cannot give in. Only death lay in that direction. They will be nothing.

And if he is nothing North Korea will come again and take him. Lock them up, carve his name into every inch of his skin. Yong Soo does not want to feel that. Again. He does not want to feel that _again_. He still has the scars from the last time his brother tried to write his name into his skin.

"Brother, brother no!" Korea pleaded.

His brother merely laughed and carved into his chest. The knife did not leave a thin red line, the skin puckered forwards and split, the thick red line spread as his blood poured out from the wound made by the dirty knife.

Korea began to scream.

Yong Soo could not react, could not move, could not speak, could not retaliate. Like always, Yong Soo could do nothing. Nothing but try to make sense out of the screams.

"_Stop! Stop it! I'll hurt you! You'll regret this, I'll rip out your eyes with my fingers! I'll break in your knee caps with metal! Stop it stop it! Please stop!"_

He has the firm belief they should not give up, but Yong Soo finds himself always with the words which are surrender.

North would ignore his pain and cause him more, scraping the knife along his skin like a paintbrush. Yong Soo would look down and see the red staining his entire torso, his entire body. He looked down and saw the dirty white of bone poking through his skin, the rise and fall of red lungs with blood pooling on it while deflated and then running off when he breathed in. He looked as his intestines began spilling over and where his liver was showing and began to scream. Scream, because sometimes seeing it was worse than feeling the pain. Sometimes.

America pulled him out from his brother's clutches. Again. Korea hated the fact they had to rely on him. Yong Soo was so grateful that anyone was there.

Yong Soo has taken on Korea's penchant of saying what was his. Korea is busy clinging to anything he can get his hands on, so Yong Soo listens, thinks through what is said, and claims things by voice. Korea used to do that for attention. Yong Soo does it for actual claim. Because while Korea tries clinging to others for this attention, Yong Soo remembers who actually cares for them.

China entered that war. On his brother's side.

Yong Soo sobbed into his sleeves and wished it all would be finished. Korea would not accept this, but Yong Soo knew better.

He knew so much better.

"_I invented irony,"_ Yong Soo broke in before anyone else in the room could say anything. If anything, it allowed Korea to grip tighter to China's arm.

China managed to undo the grip and hide on the other side of Japan.

Yong Soo knows objects and ideas are less likely to choose over him. So he takes them by word of mouth. After all, North tells him constantly the more times you say something the truer it becomes. Yong Soo has heard this enough he believes that it is true, enforcing the entire concept.

Plus, claiming these things, people, places... it all seems to amuse Korea. Yong Soo first was trying to protect himself with these claims, but finally has come to the realization these claims make Korea laugh.

The laughter hurts Yong Soo, but it makes Korea smile.

* * *

_This was very difficult to write because of the insanity I am certain runs through both of them, let alone North Korea. I did not mean for it to become mostly about the Korean War, but that is just what came out.  
_

_Who is next? Still taking suggestions.  
_


	9. Germany

Ludwig often wakes up screaming. Screaming until Germany begins to hit him again.

Germany likes everything perfect. No, that is not true. Germany absolutely _has_ to have everything perfect. Without everything being perfect he does not know how to react, he does not know what to do. Ludwig is the same. Except he has begun to believe that not knowing how to react is not a horrible thing. At least, this is what he wants to believe.

This perfect that Germany has to have has seeped into his mind and has taken over everything. Ludwig struggles to keep himself _him_, someone who may eventually be able to reach out. Germany lost this ability a very long time ago. Ever since either of them could remember. Germany never reached out to Prussia, Prussia came and took him.

Ludwig knows Prussia tried his best, considering the country he took under his wing would give him little hint of what was terribly wrong with him.

Ludwig and Germany were encouraged to be exact. Everything clean, organized, perfect. Maybe it was a bit frightening how easy it was to fall into this role.

Ludwig could tell when Germany began getting sick. The problem with this was that he was not certain whether that meant he was sick as well. Not much of it was physical. It was all in his mind. Their mind.

Then Ludwig finally came to know _he_ was sick. Ludwig knows that it is he who is the one screaming. He knows from the fact it takes Germany a few minutes to panic from the sudden noise.

Sometimes he does not even know why he is screaming. Neither does Germany. Maybe that is what scares Germany the most, because he can not pinpoint the reason. There is no reaction he has for something he does not know about.

"Shut up! Shut up! **Shut up!**" Germany would pant, between the screams, when Ludwig would fall silent for a moment long enough for Germany to interject.

Germany would hit him until the tell tale _**crack**_ noise which would finally keep Ludwig from screaming. It would keep Germany from moving for quite some time before he remembered the time and moved to bandage himself and head to work.

There were the few times he could remember why he was screaming. They came much later.

_So many. Dead. Starve, gas, butcher, cook, shoot, frighten –_

And Germany would begin screaming as well.

"Germany? Germany! Shh! Shh... it's all right. Germany? I'm right here, it'll be okay, 'kay? Germany, Germany..."

Many things have changed since it had become impossible to wake up without seeing Italy right there. It was impossible to wake up without feeling this warmth around his chest from where Italy clung to him.

Germany will not say anything. Germany cannot say anything, because he does not know how to react. There is no book on this, there is no one to tell him how to respond to this. There is only Italy. And so Ludwig is given the forefront to deal with him.

Germany has never once spoken to Italy. Not even once. Germany is afraid of Italy.

Ludwig once was as well. He was given the lead, but had no idea what to do with it. Italy was beyond anything Ludwig could comprehend. But he could not convince Germany to save him from this embarrassment.

But as Italy would calm their screams, soothe Ludwig's tears, he realized he did not want Germany to say anything to Italy. Ludwig may not know what to say, but he was almost certain what he would say would never chase the Italian away.

Germany might and call it self-defense. Ludwig never wants there to be the chance.

"Germany! Look at the fields Germany! All of the flowers in the wind... it's so pretty, ne?"

Ludwig cleared his throat, a subtle reminder in the back of his mind saying how they were supposed to be working. _"Now is not de time for tillytallying, Italy. Stop looking out de vindow."_

"But look! It would make such a beautiful picture," Italy sighed, pulling at Ludwig's arm.

"_Ve hafe vork to to."_

"It can wait! It's so warm – I'd rather just laze about outside–"

"_Italy!_" he shouted after the Italian. _"Get back insite!"_

All that came back was Italy's laughter. Ludwig did his best not to seethe. Germany reminded him to return to work.

Ludwig found himself looking out the window at Italy, lazing about in the tall grass as if there was not a care in the world.

Sometimes Ludwig goes out and joins Italy.

Other times Germany begins to hit him. If he can make it outside, it will stop. It will stop and he might be able to convince himself it is worth it.

Ludwig is not perfect and for this Germany will make him pay.

* * *

_As suggested, the next chapters will be Prussia, Spain, Austria, Hungary, and Japan. Most likely in that order, but still depending on which ones I finish first._


	10. Prussia

Gilbert is Prussia, and nothing Prussia can say will make him think differently.

After all, they are one person. This is the same body, this is the same mind. Everything Prussia proposes Gilbert has thought of and agrees with. Gilbert is certain this is how people are. People call him Prussia, his mind calls himself Gilbert, but he is really Prussia as well.

And he is awesome, one cannot forget this!

Gilbert _is_ Prussia.

"No, I'm not," Prussia protested one day.

"_Vhat?"_

"I'm not you."

Gilbert laughed at the newest strange thing his mind has come up with. _"Of course you are. Ve are Prussia."_

"No," Prussia shut his eyes as if a sudden headache had upset him.

"_This is stupit,"_ Gilbert snorted, deciding he must be tired.

"Ant nefer be. Please nefer be me. Not vhile you hafe de chance."

And then they went off to bother Austria, who as always simply wanted them to go away.

Gilbert finds himself looking into the mirror and looking for something he knows is not there. Cannot be there. There is only him. There is no Prussia, he _is_ Prussia. He is.

But Prussia is lonely, so lonely. And so is Gilbert. In a different way, Gilbert has come to realize. Prussia wants someone there. For once he does not want to stand on his own, even though that is all they ever tell people they want to do. No one is good enough to stand on this pillar, there is only room for one.

Gilbert wants the world to stop changing, because his mind has stopped completely comprehending every single change, the complete history of the world he is supposed to know, the people he keeps thinking are alive but have been dead for hundreds of years.

"You are more Human," Prussia assured him, in a rare sort of knowledge that Gilbert knew he could not expect to hear from anyone. No one at all, but himself. This sort of knowledge does not come from experience or age. It comes from the simple acceptance of the fact that one day, they _will_ die. No one has to know of this acceptance however.

Did they have friends once?

"Vhat happenet to us?" Prussia asked Hungary. Gilbert hoped this sort of straight forward speech would finally receive a response from her, a response he knew she was capable of but had never received. No, that was always given to Austria.

"Us?" she questioned, not looking at him in lieu of cleaning the windows.

"Ve uset to make fun of Austria togeder, all de time! Ton't tell me you'fe completely grown out of seeing someding silly vhen you life vith it!"

Wrong thing to say.

"There was never an us," Hungary said, as if it were fact. "We just happened to spend time together back in the day when there were less people to communicate with. When our little whims happened more often. There is no us."

Gilbert was certain he had friends at one point. He was awesome, after all.

"_You marriet a bitch, you know dat?"_ Gilbert told Austria. Austria smiled that annoying smirk which Gilbert was certain he never had when he was younger.

"It takes a certain type of man to deal with her," he assured Gilbert before kicking Prussia out of his house.

Everyone left and somehow he found himself coming around full circle. Waiting for the man who was once the child who had to wait for him.

Prussia laughed, saying that with age apparently came immaturity and irresponsibility.

Gilbert and Prussia stared up at the wall and waited for it to finally fall.

"_Itiot. You ask me not to be you vhile eferyone only says de name of Prussia?"_

People would not ignore him, would they? Not for so long, not so deliberately, not at all. He had to be Prussia.

But now people were not even saying the name of Prussia. Prussia was about to tell him so, but Gilbert would not let him. Prussia did not protest, because he knew now that Gilbert understands.

As long as one person still needs them, it will be all right. As long as this one person has not forgotten them, then Prussia will (inwardly) allow the fact Prussia no longer exists.

"East!"

That is not the name of Prussia, but Prussia will make an exception for this one person.

No one calls for Gilbert. No one ever has. And Gilbert felt as if he was not completely involved in running towards Germany.

Is this the last time? Now they are no longer separated...

Still, Gilbert will not let this change his mind, his belief in this one fact. In the one thing he can easily accept as a truth in this mad, mad world.

Gilbert is Prussia, he will always claim. He is just not certain he wants to be.

* * *

_I am off on my short trip, but I assure you I will update within the week._


	11. Spain

Antonio always sees what is happening. Despite Spain's constant, temporary, blindness.

Antonio understands why Spain would not want to see everything around them. Some things are just so horrible it is unfair to want someone else to see them. Some thing are simply things they could not change, whether knowing about them or not. There will be no point to noticing these things – not that it makes a difference to Antonio. He sees them all the same.

Spain simply wishes to be his country of relaxation, his country of passion. Which means when he can Spain will completely ignore anything which does not match up with his vision of this perfect place they have worked so hard to create.

There was so much wrong in this world. There is still.

"What do you think I should do?"

"My friend, what you should do is obvious."

Obvious. Antonio tries not to cry when he laughs, thinking on France's words to Spain. Obvious. It should be obvious. To Spain it never is. France knows this, which is why he can get away with his own schemes while telling Spain as such.

Antonio tries to discern whether he thinks Spain deserves this. It is the nation's own choice to completely ignore what is happening to him, around him, from him. Antonio tries to decide whether Spain is better off thinking so grandly of the world, being so carefree. After all, those who seem to suffer with their actions and the actions of those around them never seem better off.

This is Antonio's own reasoning, why he never bothers to force Spain to see beyond what he wants to see. And if that meant Spain could walk right through torment and not notice those afflicted Antonio might have gone insane. But though Spain ignores so much, he does not always ignore those in need. When he can help, he does so. Even times he cannot, he tries.

They feel so lost. Again, Antonio never forces Spain to see, because while it may hurt him to see what Spain ignores, it hurts more when the both of them can do nothing.

There was a hole in his most used watering can. The tomatoes would not wait for him to try and patch it up, so he went to buy a new one.

He heard the pealing laughter as he saw Romano try and duck from his field of vision.

Romano. Antonio never knows what it is Spain can see with South Italy. Sometimes it seems as if he sees more, then it seems as if he has missed all of the hints the other had dropped. Antonio cannot decide whether Spain is oblivious to this. And, just like with everything else, Antonio cannot ask. It would almost be an intrusion of some sort. Antonio does not know. He does not know so many things.

Antonio saw him. Spain saw him.

Antonio also saw the girl Romano was with.

"Romano!" Spain call cheerfully, looking over the stall where the other had tried to conceal himself. Antonio did not know whether Spain had comprehended that or not.

"_You should introduce me to this beautiful young lady you're–"_

"Knock it off," Romano groused, rising up next to the dark haired girl. Antonio felt the same pang of jealousy he would always feel. The same pang Spain never seemed to have.

The girl introduced herself. The same urge to tease the Italian rose in both of them, but Spain let him have the first crack at it. Antonio took the lead with glee.

"_What a fine catch! You are very lucky, Romano."_

Romano scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. Not that they ever stayed in one place for long. "Of course," he tried to roll with it, for the benefit of the lady with him.

"I raised him, you know," Spain went in for blood. Antonio saw the look on Romano's face and tried not to snicker, settling with an easy smile.

"So he likes to think," Romano tried to give himself an out, grabbing the girl's hand.

"_Don't get too cozy unless you're going to use–"_

"Shut up!"

She laughed, telling Romano he had such a strange friend. Romano scoffed it off. As per usual.

"See ya Spain."

And he left him, pretty girl clinging to his arm and talking nonstop about what seemed to be nothing at all. Not that it really matters. Romano is so good at listening, when the speaker is a girl.

Antonio can understand why Spain overlooks these moments. After so many of these moments, Antonio wants to give up. It hurts, to be shunned so many times. It is tiring, to watch the other walk away with anyone other than himself.

Spain, however, does not seem to notice.

"They always have short, dark hair... they are all carefree, every single one teases him... and they're all Spanish. Who does that sound like to you?"

Antonio stared after the couple in the distance. Then he laughed.

Spain is selectively blind. Antonio is glad to know he is selectively perceptive as well.


	12. Austria

Roderich and Austria come to another accord.

This will be measure five thousand, three hundred and fifty eight. Five thousand, three hundred, fifty, and eight measures they have made an agreement for towards a common goal. These measures never used to be necessary.

One gives something at one point for another to gain at another juncture.

He remembers measure one.

They were so young then. Austria was not Austria. Roderich is not certain how they were to label the fact both of them existed. Two thoughts, one mind. One action, one body. They were similar enough, he supposes it did not matter. They had similar tastes. Where most focused most attentions on the realms of touch and sight, for them it was their ears.

And their friend. He was always there for them, after being beaten up by the 'boy' who would one day turn out to be Hungary. Roderich and the boy who would become Austria both wanted to someday be able to return the favour.

Roderich asked him if childrens play had always been war. His friend looked at him. At first there was a sudden fright, then suddenly he managed to gain a hold on himself.

"We are not children. We will become so much more, you'll see."

Austria said so much, later, to the Holy Roman Empire. Switzerland's exact words. It hurt Roderich so much to see the boy's face.

"You are not a child. You are becoming so much more."

But measure one. Oh, measure one! Before Roderich even knew how important measures would become for the both of them.

Up until this point Roderich understood the orders Austria had to follow. He was the blockade personified and it was his duty. Roderich had no thoughts of ever asking him to try and break these urges which were caused by these other people, the weather, everything which encompassed him.

Up until...

"What are you doing?"

Switzerland was caught off balance, as was his right. Austria was not the type for battle, so he managed to take control of Switzerland through complete and utter surprise.

"_Don't do this! We should not... he's our friend!"_

And Austria, with the tears running down his face, with eyes blurry even when they were dry, stared into the looking glass back at him.

"I have to. Please, do not argue with me. Just let me do this and I... I in turn will do something for you. Agreed? Leave me to my orders. I have to."

Measure one.

Which returns him to the thought...

_Measure five thousand, three hundred and fifty eight._

That note is to be flatted. Glancing over, the edge of their glasses reveals Hungary's beautiful face. She smiles. The improvised chord is successful. And although they are not likely to agree again for a while, it is worth it this once for this smile.

Always, always, it seems as though they both want both sides of each measure. Making the need to come up with the terms utterly pointless. Pointless, yet consistent.

Roderich is glad that at least this divorce has not fractured Roderich and Austria again.

"_Are we still the same?"_

"Excuse me?" Hungary turns towards him.

"_My apologize. Just speaking to myself."_

She leaves.

"We are the same as we were. We are completely different from each other. I believe... this is how we are to survive at all."

"_Thank you."_

"Thank you."

Roderich finds himself agreeing to be less Human. Agreeing so that Austria, at another time, will agree to be more so.

* * *

_Hungary next, then Japan. There are still plenty characters to go through and only at request!_


	13. Hungary

Elizaveta does not understand why she acts in some ways. Hungary understands it perfectly.

She hates to pry. Elizaveta hates making others feel uncomfortable, yet having knowledge others do not know she knows can be used for their own good. It is difficult, but Elizaveta can find the medium. She knows what is right and what is wrong. Elizaveta likes knowing the ground on which she stands in the right course doing the right things for the people she cares for.

Hungary agrees with her. Elizaveta has no reason to think she does not.

They raised themselves as boys. They had no grounds for comparison. It was very easy to think that they would become men when Hungary, before she was Hungary, became a nation. They would grow beyond need for people and would be free to do what they wanted.

Women were thought created for man. Nations did not think the same way. Hungary did not think the same way. But Elizaveta does. She cannot help it, she is Human.

It was a horrible day when she found out she was a woman. Hungary seemed shocked, but able to deal with the consequences. Elizaveta did not want to deal with the consequences. She felt somehow less than what she knew she was. She felt dirty.

Hungary slapped her. It is the only time Hungary has ever slapped someone like that. After all, when she uses her bare hands it becomes a fist. Hungary knows what effects nations the best.

"Don't you dare start thinking that way!" Hungary shrieked. "How do you suppose that makes me feel?"

"_It's not the same for you!"_ Elizaveta cried. _"No one will think less of you! You will be strong! I will just be a woman!"_

"We will be strong," Hungary corrected, gripping a hand on the hilt of her sword, pushing her hair from her face. "I promise."

Elizaveta agrees now, but she does not quite understand this strength. She supposes this is something only Hungary, as a nation, can understand. So she does not pry. Even as woman become known as capable as just as much as men, this does not change. Because Hungary does as she previously had, as she always has, and Elizaveta feels protected from the scorn she might have felt from the rest of the world.

Being one with a nation tends to follow the strangest patterns.

This strength lends itself to help her protect the ones she cares for. Most of the time.

There are times when Elizaveta finds herself frozen. What is different about these times? Elizaveta does not know. She sees France, hands on Austria, hears Austria's moans...

And freezes.

"_I have to do something..._"

"I should watch for a little bit longer. Just in case."

"_Sure."_

And she wants someone. She will always suddenly want someone so badly. This hunger finally drives Elizaveta, Hungary, to move and protect, as she has always intended. But oh, how she wants to just push herself between the two and plead for them to continue, not to stop what they were doing, and oh, touch her too touch her touch her...

Elizaveta wonders if it is because she is a woman. She hates being a woman so and cries for the horrendous fate which would give her this body which wants these things which will make her ignore her vow to protect, this body which fails her in finding any satisfaction when she needs it so badly but knows better. She knows better than to prostitute herself so. It sickens her, being a woman.

Hungary soothes her. They may be a woman, but Hungary tells her constantly they will just have to make the most out of it. And Elizaveta agrees. Self loathing never helps anyone.

And being a woman is probably the first reason why Austria lets her beyond the walls he puts up against anyone else. And Hungary lets Elizaveta sooth him. Hungary cries, for reasons Elizaveta does not understand and she lets Austria have her.

Neither have ever been so happy before, but there is something missing. Missing with her.

And despite knowing Austria loves her, that Austria will let her come to him always, Elizaveta finds that both she and Hungary will halt when she sees Russia with Lithuania, France with Spain, England with America, Italy with Germany... Halting because she wants to see a spark between the men. She wants to watch them touch, and moan, and pant, and come screaming to each other...

It is disgusting. But it makes them flush in such ways. It is a drug.

Does Hungary resist these urges like Elizaveta does?

Elizaveta cannot believe Hungary would ever do these things on purpose. Hungary allows her to think so.

* * *

_I have no idea why Hungary took me so long to write. For some reason getting the ideas out was difficult, but I hope this pleases. Next: Japan._


	14. Japan

Kiku does not want the spotlight that Japan has begun to crave.

It is so easy to remember his childhood. Before anyone else came to him. Just him and his family, his real family. Not how all nations believe and call each other brother, sister. When Japan stepped forwards and met China that is what happened. China presumed to call himself his brother. Japan might have been only slightly uncertain, but for Kiku there was no doubt.

China was not his brother. Kiku knew of his brothers and sisters. Even if he and Japan are the only ones to see them anymore.

There is no point in mentioning them to any other. These thoughts are only slightly pacified by the fact Kiku has heard America mutter about his states under his breath. The fact both Veneziano and Romano both exist (are both seen) is because there is just enough of a diversity such things cannot be displayed in one single person. Kiku has to believe this.

Because shut up in his own home, Kiku only does not mind the intrusion of his siblings. His family. Kiku would love nothing more than just to stay there and enjoy the outside world through this filter. The outside world is filled with so many things, so much to learn...

He likes the learning. Learning has never been the issue. Kiku likes knowing things. There are only a few reasons why he will believe anyone would not want to know things.

Japan had always agreed with this sentiment. Until. Until.

When Japan suddenly realized there was an outside world he could grasp, he could understand, he could become a part of... it became an obsession. This is still an obsession. An obsession Kiku does not share. Japan laughs and wonders why. Kiku cannot think of an accurate response which Japan would not toss aside. Differing opinions in such ways have that affect on people. If someone loves the colour red and another person hates it... there is not talking about that colour. There is no middle ground with such feelings.

Kiku hates America for this. Without America, Kiku could still ignore those to his West which proclaimed themselves as his brothers and be himself by himself. Kiku would not have had to watch China scream.

_(He hates China so, but China does not deserve such treatment. China never deserved to be stabbed in the back either, but that is a different story.)_

Kiku loves America for the simple fact he would miss this without America giving him this opportunity. Without America he would be locked up by his own volition. Without America he never would have become friends with England.

And lost him.

He never would have become friends with Italy and Germany.

And watch them all loose.

"How can we make progress in life without taking risks?" Japan asked him. It was World War Two. America was not going to see them coming.

"_This is progress?"_ Kiku questioned. _"How is hurting people progress?"_

"Do you question the authority of our Emperor? Do you question the protection this will grant our people once we have become supreme?"

Kiku was surprised he was against this course of action. This way, he would not have to deal with these outsiders. This way...

Maybe Kiku does not hate people as much as he has told himself he does. Maybe he can give people other than his family a chance. Kiku does not want to be an angry person. Maybe the outside world is not as frightening as Kiku thought it was.

But being out in the world is not the same as being watched by the entirety of the outside world.

Their eyes scare him.

Japan revels in this attention. Maybe it was not what either of them intended, but he revels in it nonetheless.

Kiku is not certain what he wants. He knows one thing he does not want however. He does not want the world staring at him. Cracking under the pressure of their eyes. Wondering how he has lived this long while feeling the full brunt of their wishes.

Japan modernized so quickly.

Kiku still has to catch up.

"Are you all right, aru?"

Kiku cannot glare at China as he used to. Kiku almost feels as if China is the older brother who intruded on his privacy. Kiku wonders if this is him finally changing.

"Thank you for your concern. I am perfectly fine," Japan responded, in a voice detached.

The change embraces Kiku. But Japan does not embrace back.

* * *

_Next: China.  
_


	15. China

Yao wishes nothing more than to rest, but China reminds him of his immortality.

Yao has become tired. He wishes almost to have fallen a long time before. If China was not there, this would be possible. Yao has accepted this fact a long time before. And despite his longevity of life he feels no need of ruining China's just so he can rest eternally.

He hates China, sometimes. It is so easy to do so. It is China's fault he is still here. It is China's fault that he has seen so many things – things which would have caused any other person to have lost their minds, things which would have caused any other Human to die by their sheer will just to escape the wretched planet. Sometimes the beauty of the planet can not make up for the suffering of people, creatures, everything.

Things have come from being crude and simple to cruel and complex. No one would have ever thought of life as simple back then. With the comparison however, with this comparison it is obvious.

Yao and China both have knowledge beyond what most people they meet understand. Still China can act so immature, so childish, that Yao is disgusted with the relationship he is forced to share with the nation. But what is there to do? Yao cannot change this, China cannot change this. Yao sometimes is overwhelmed with the thoughts of being trapped with the nation forever.

But at this point in his life he understands this is just how China is. China cannot keep himself from acting this way. Or can he? Is it the people, the land, the government... is it all of these things which dictate how China acts? Is he fated to act in some way which represents the part of the world he represents? Or is it whatever China decides to do on a whim what suddenly makes the changes in his country?

Or are they some split influence, one never quite causing the other and yet somehow always being similar?

Yao has watched very carefully over his lifetime – especially in the later years – and has never been able to come to a conclusion about this matter. Even questioning China would yield a fruitless effort. China does not know. China shall not care.

China gives his advice.

"This is a Human body. A Human body cannot take the strain of an entire country, but here we are, aru. Who knows how this is possible, aru? Why either of us exist as we do? We have to live with the consequences of each other's actions, we have no choice in this, aru."

Yao understands this, but sometimes does not want to accept it. One thing China has never faltered in is the belief he and Yao are trapped together for a reason. There is a reason Yao exists – the Human counterpart of the nation. The one who lives as the nation does, yet sees the world as a Human might.

Both have the theory they are not the only ones like this. But it is not their place to pry in something like this. Yet... _yet_... even though most never see another country falter without an outside influence, there has to be the Human morals there. There has to be their counterparts in all things.

Yao cries when thinking about this. The countries, states, empires... those who could be older than he are all dead by this point. And Yao suffers to think that there are others like him who will suffer this same state of mind if they manage to continue living somehow.

"_Everything dies, aru,"_ Yao told a blood stained Russia.

"Vhen Death comes knocking, tell me, vould you?" Russia grinned.

People think Russia is crazy? Maybe he is, Yao accepts, but only in a different way than the rest of them. Yao wonders about Ivan Braginski. He wonders about Im Yong Soo. He wonders about Honda Kiku. He wonders about so many people.

He wonders about Wang Yao.

China tells him it is probably best not to delve too deeply into this. And though after thinking about it Yao agrees, he hates China for his sense of sensibility. How China decides to take his responsibility in the smaller things.

Not what they both know is so much more important.

"Man's schemes are inferior to those made by heaven, aru," China reminded him.

"_You are no man,"_ Yao reminded him in return._ "__An ant may well destroy a whole dam, aru,"_

"That applies to you."

"_It does... doesn't it, aru?"_

Yao is immortal. But only for as long as he and China coexist.

* * *

_Next, in the order of requested: Hong Kong, Belarus, Poland, Lithuania. Not permanent order, we will see who decides to jump out of my head first._


	16. Hong Kong

Maddox is not certain if he is still Kong. Hong Kong does not think so inwardly.

He was born as Kong, he thinks he remembers. China gave him that name. When they were little, neither completely understood this. Then, as Hong Kong became Hong Kong... they were certain.

China was messing with them.

Maddox knows they have always known there were two of them inhabiting this body. And although neither of their wishes differed much in the beginning, it has come to head now that Maddox is Human. A Human parasite in the body of a country. A country which somehow has a body, which is Human.

Is that the trade off? In order to have a single body...

But this is beyond them. Maddox knows this. Hong Kong may be curious, but he has also come to accept that such understanding is beyond them. At least, for now.

"Give some of these to China," England said. The thick haze in his voice should have been obvious, but Kong was young. Kong did not understand. Hong Kong was thinking about the thanks he would get from China for this. He looked at them with wonder.

"_Some?" _Kong tried the English word. England grinned, obviously pleased.

"You can have a few too, if you want," England ruffled his hair.

England had been out of his mind. Or else he would never have given him such things for himself.

Kong had protested, but Hong Kong was too interested. It was because of this Kong never realized when suddenly he was under England's roof and not China's. When the haze of drug left them Kong realized they had made a mistake.

And Kong was Maddox, just like that.

Again, Maddox does not know if England knows how much these names mean to him. That he uses this name constantly in his head, because it is what Hong Kong calls him. It is what he calls himself. Does China and England think this name is only used to Humans of whom they do not want them to know of their identity as countries?

Does any of this really matter?

Maddox almost does not care. It took him a very long time to get beyond his addiction and sometimes all he wants is the opium back. The pleasant haze.

Hong Kong lectures him about this. Hong Kong has never had such an addiction. This is what he says anyway. Maddox knows better than this. Hong Kong has a different sort of addiction. It is not on the consumption of anything physical. It is the consumption of the attention of others. After all, China never clung to him so much before England suddenly wanted him.

Hong Kong has come to wait on others. To please others. Maybe by being so important to China, to England, to others, making Hong Kong as relevant as he was despite everything... maybe this is what made him so willing in his youth to fall for these traps.

Kong, meanwhile, had always been a bit wary. Even now as Maddox. Even more so, actually. And some of this seems to have finally caught onto Hong Kong. Even though they are stronger than Maddox ever thought they were able to become. Maddox does not want to depend so much on other people. Maddox does not want so much of his well being to depend on what other people think of him.

Kong was never like that.

Hong Kong is never like that.

Maddox feels a bit more English. Of course he is more English than Kong ever was, but Hong Kong is encompassing everything, right?

And there he is again, trying to comprehend their existence. Right away his head hurts. Hong Kong laughs at him, in the small chuckle which is only as loud as either of them ever become.

They have become important, even for one supposedly so small. Yet Maddox does not think their voice is being heard.

"Of course it is," Hong Kong says in their usual monotone. "In this day and age, everyone is being heard."

"_That makes it worse. When people are heard, but their words are ignored."_

"That does not matter."

"_It doesn't?"_

"N... no. No? I'd... I'd have to ask China."

Have to. Not want to. Maddox knows Hong Kong has to do some of these things. Hong Kong has to refer to the one who owns him. What Maddox has not figured out is whether Hong Kong actually likes to do such things. In this way Hong Kong is as indiscernible to him as they both are to everyone else.

Maddox does not want to be owned. Maddox wants to be able to realize what he is.

He wants the haze of his childhood to leave his mind alone permanently.

"Welcome back, Hong Kong!" China said happily.

Maddox kept his arms folded in front of him. _I am Maddox. I am no longer China's property. I am __no longer anyone's property..._

Surprisingly, Hong Kong has decided to agree with this.

But he is. Trying to gain his mental freedom from what he has learned from England has not seemed to help. Changing his name though, having Hong Kong agree to this, it was a start.

Maddox has changed. Hong Kong is still uncertain.

* * *

_This one is a bit more confusing, sorry. I could not make it make as much sense as I wanted. Then again, I was trying to make sense of him having two Human names, as I have always thought Hong Kong would have one given by China and another by England and so also a confused identity. I also had to make up a personality, not that it came out very clear in this. My apologies. Maybe I will try and give another crack at this again some time. After writing a story with Hong Kong not in an AU. Though that is as close to his personality as I have created to come out on page.  
_


	17. Belarus

Natalia wonders how to stop being so lonely, whether or not Belarus understands.

Belarus tells her to not worry. Belarus believes she has everything under control. Natalia wishes not to believe this, but knows better than to think so. What would be the point? She does not have a better idea than Belarus' idea. And she is just so lonely she can only hope that Belarus' idea will succeed where Natalia does not think they will.

Marriage is sacred. When married, the two stay together forever. Sort of how they are now, Natalia believes. She is married to Belarus forever. But Belarus feels empty to her. There is something between the two of them, keeping them from really stopping this loneliness between the two of them.

They both agree that to marry would soothe this loneliness.

If their brother never left them again, they could be happy. After all, ever since she was little, Natalia remembers how much importance Russia was to Belarus and herself. Belarus says marrying Russia will mean he will stay with them for forever.

Natalia wants to believe this. She loves her brother. And if marriage means he will stay with her, will not leave her, then she agrees.

For some reason this suggestion makes him run away from her. Natalia does not understand.

"_Brother, come back!_" she would plead. Belarus would always grin.

"He's just playing hard to get! Brother! Let's get married!"

For some reason this does not seem right to Natalia. But Belarus says she knows what she is doing and Natalia has no words to describe her uncertainty.

Russia ignores them. He runs away. He tells them to leave. Belarus says this is just him playing hard to get. Natalia wonders whether this is what Russia really thinks of them.

It makes her angry. It makes her sad. It makes her think it is her fault. Belarus says it cannot be her fault, it would have to be Natalia. Natalia has nothing to be able to defend herself and wonders whether it is true. Maybe the fact that Russia runs from them is her fault. But Natalia cannot think of what she does wrong. All she is is lonely. Maybe loneliness is a crime.

Russia spends time with others. They do not even have to ask for it. Estonia... Latvia, oh how he loves teasing Lavia... Lithuania. Belarus hates Lithuania with a passion. Russia would spend all of his time with Lithuania, time he should be spending with her!

Natalia feels lost. She wants someone to love her, to marry her, and Lithuania had wanted to spend time with her. Would not spending time with her rid her of her loneliness?

"No! He's just trying to trick us. Trick us and steal brother for himself," Belarus hissed, running her knife along the table.

"_Or maybe he wants to meet me,"_ Natalia suggested.

Belarus stabbed her and keeled over, holding to her stomache as Natalia screamed.

The thought of this pain keeps Natalia from thinking as Belarus glares at her long hated enemy. Belarus must be right after all. Belarus is so certain. And Natalia is stupid for even thinking _she_ was more important than Belarus.

It was stupid to think that Lithuania might have seen her under what Belarus shows the world. Belarus is right, after all. What does Natalia know? Natalia is not a country, she is not as important. Why cry? There is no point. Belarus knew what she was doing. Belarus was certain, whereas Natalia had no idea. So Belarus at least had a head start. If things were going wrong, Belarus would know how to change tactics.

Natalia is so lonely.

Through the mirror broken by her knife, Natalia wonders if she sees Belarus actually as lonely as she.

Natalia is lonely. So lonely she can do nothing but believe Belarus and therefore Russia can save her.


	18. Poland

Feliks wants to say more than Poland will ever let him.

No one would expect that Feliks would let something like this happen. Everyone knows Feliks, though they call him Poland. They know Poland and call him the same. Poland is an excellent actor (Feliks taught him well) and Poland almost at times seems to enjoy it.

Feliks knew exactly when he realized that they were not the same person. When he held the dress up to his chest, when he suddenly realized how beautiful he could possibly look in it, and when every single muscle in his body seemed to clench painfully tight.

"No. I don't want this."

And Poland dropped it. Feliks gaped for a while as Poland made him walk away.

It was the next day that Feliks realized he could do something about it. He threw a tantrum in front of Boleslaus. Poland bashed his head against the wall for it later.

"_I am, like, paying rent by being nice,"_ Feliks said stubbornly. _"I am totally capable of doing things without asking you. Same thing with you, yeah? So, like, we should get along. You let me do what I want and I will not destroy your country."_

It was a selfish bargain, but it was the only way they could be considered equals. What happens to Poland happens to so many other people. It also happens to Feliks. What Feliks does effects these people, because what he does effects Poland. In some roundabout way, because they are the same person.

Feliks has a strong will. Poland does not want to subdue him for this reason (or maybe Poland cares for him but Feliks would not bet on that) but he can. Poland can destroy him if he wants. But Feliks will take him down with him.

"Deal."

And Feliks ran off to put on the dress. Feliks felt powerful and scared. He was always going to do what he wanted. Poland would never stop him.

Feliks has revised this thought many times since then.

Despite this deal, Feliks has never actually mentioned his threat since that day. He is already pushing too much. He already does plenty of things which he can tell Poland is very close to breaking his promise and forcing him to whatever happens in death. Feliks will not push past this point, he loves life too much.

There are times life is too much for him. Poland has not ever noticed these times. If he had, he would know that Feliks will never be able to make good on his threat. Poland can do whatever he wants and Feliks would never be able to actually do anything to stop him.

Despite this, he loves life. He does not want to die, disappear. He is scared of the thought. Maybe it is because he is what he is that since he grew older and understood the world, understood some of Poland, that he understood he could never hurt these people.

Though he can be very critical of them. Completely hypocritical by doing things none of them would agree with. Feliks is very pessimistic, so very opposite of Poland's optimism. He may be pessimistic, but he will act as if everything is going his way because by this point it is the only thing keeping him from breaking his end of the promise.

Feliks might not be able to do anything against Poland on purpose, but if he broke down during a meeting that would be all Poland would need to dispose of him. And Feliks is so scared of this.

"_Oh my god, Liet! _You need to come over this weekend._ You totally don't come over enough!"_

These are the words he says, though there is more behind them.

"Uh... sure Poland. I might be busy thought..."

"Totally no._ You are coming over, even if I have to make you."_

And he acts as if he can have whatever he wants because he knows he cannot.

When Feliks realizes just how well he has trained Poland into acting like him, he realizes just how well Poland has trained him into being a Nation.

And Feliks realizes that they have blurred the line between them so much it is difficult to tell which one is the one speaking. Which one of them was the shy one? Both of them balk at a new acquaintance. Which of them is the one who cannot live without eating a pierogi a day? They both like them now.

Feliks realizes with despair he has turned them into the same person. Yet...

Yet there are some things which he wants to say that Poland will never let him.

"_I'm so... sca–"_

Feliks gives in to Poland and decides to be content with life.

* * *

_This one was the most difficult one to write for me. Hopefully Lithuania's will not take nearly as long._


	19. Lithuania

Toris is sick of life. Lithuania is sick of death.

Toris is not certain when he became aware of this fact. When he suddenly wanted to leave this world. The only thing which has kept him steady is the fact that he cannot leave Lithuania. And Lithuania cannot leave his people.

It is his responsibility to stand by the Nation when the Nation needed help. Why else would he exist? Why else would there be such a Human part to a Nation? It is for the very reason that a Nation needs someone who can understand his people better than he. Someone who can look upon the world with a little less bias than a Nation who can only keep the same view as the majority. Toris knows that is his reason for existing. Lithuania is thankful for it.

Still, when war lingers on day after day, year after year... when battles become commonplace and eventualities... when death is supposed to be obvious, Toris cannot stand it.

Toris finds himself so sick of living through this, when all other Humans have died to escape being overwhelmed, he cannot. He has to watch all of this death with a fragile Human mind, while suffering each death as Lithuania does.

"_How?"_ he asked Lithuania, as they were torn apart by Russification. _"How can you want to live through this?"_

"I have hope," Lithuania admitted. "As each new life does. Renewed hope washes over me with every child. I don't retain the smaller... the... um..."

"_The small things?"_

"I forget them, like my people. Like you do."

So Lithuania is tired of his people dying, but still holds hope for the future. Toris understands the sense of that and tries his best to be Lithuania's prop. He tries to be Lithuania's calm and hot and smooth and complex whenever Lithuania felt the opposite. Toris wants to believe they could make a better life as long as they survive.

When they are used by the Nations around them, either Lithuania or Toris looks into a mirror to smile at the other. To show the hope that they will still make it.

They are sick.

When Russia takes advantage of them, when Russia takes advantage of Lithuania's brothers, Toris always reminds Lithuania to help. To protect the others. Lithuania used to be so ready to do such things and take the brunt of Russia's insanity, but Toris finds that Lithuania is less likely to help without a push from him, less likely to do anything beyond self preservation without Toris reminding him what they used to think was necessary.

"_Where is your hope?"_

"Where is Estonia and Latvia's hope?" Lithuania retorted bitterly. "Where is Poland's hope? Where is–" Lithuania stopped himself from shouting at Toris, Toris unable to recoil as he would wish. "I'm sorry."

"_We just have to survive."_

"Yes."

Lithuania survives. Because Lithuania survives, Toris survives. Toris wonders whether keeping Lithuania going is even worth it, because of how often Lithuania does not want to continue. Lithuania said as much, that he simply wants to fall asleep forever and dream about the days when death came of illness and old age and he and Toris met a golden haired boy while running through a golden field who named himself Feliks.

Those days are long since gone. Toris knows this. Toris knows they have to keep looking toward the future. He finds himself doing that more than Lithuania does, even with their independence. He finds himself going through the papers, going to the meetings, trying to keep a Nation going while a third of his people are killing themselves. These people are killing themselves and killing Lithuania.

Lithuania will survive though. Toris is certain that Lithuania will survive as long as there is at least a town still functioning. Toris will make certain Lithuania will survive.

Even if Lithuania does not want to.

Toris is sick of death. Lithuania is sick of life.

* * *

_Lithuania went through a lot under Russia's rule. Now that they are free, however, Lithuanians have the highest suicide rates in the world._

_As requested, Sealand is next. Then I do not have anyone else suggested, so who would you all like to read about after Sealand?  
_


	20. Sealand

Peter wants to grow up. Sealand wants to be a Nation.

He no longer thinks this is possible.

Peter has no idea when he suddenly realized that his existence was a joke. He had taken Sealand's word for what they were. Peter was perfectly happy believing every single word of that. They would become a Nation. They would be important, noticed, believed, recognized, everything. Everything a Nation was, they planned to be. And Peter has no idea when he started to realize that the entire thing was a joke.

Maybe it is because of England's reaction. Or lack thereof. Sealand will do anything to make England notice them and England continues to ignore them. Once Sealand had Germany's attention, but once Achenbach was gone then Germany was back to ignoring him.

They were nearly taken in by Sweden, they were nearly taken in by Spain. Sealand says this is their path to all of their goals. Peter believed this, once, and now he is not so certain. This gets them noticed, to be sure, but that is it. They do not grow this way. This is not the path to become a Nation.

Sealand has been lying to him since the day they existed. Peter realizes that there is no way Sealand could ever become anything, not in being who he is right now. Sealand will only just barely exist as anything and Peter has to follow along. Because Sealand just barely exists, Peter just barely exists.

In just barely existed, Peter supposes he should be happy enough he is a child, that he is anything at all. All in all, there was not much to say about it.

Peter would want to play instead of being responsible, just as Sealand would get distracted from his goal of what he wanted to become.

"_I heard Scotland telling that jerk England a story,_" Peter said, leaning over to pick up a pebble on the beach. Sealand, as always, responded immediately.

"Oh yeah? What's it about?"

"_I've heard it before... I think_," Peter frowned. "_Peter and Wendy._"

Sealand stayed quiet. Peter was not certain why. Because it hit so close to home? Then it should be funny, or strange, or creepy, right? Not cause Sealand to look so scary. Not cause Sealand to...

"Let's go see what England's doing."

"_'Kay_."

Sealand has always been a bit more of a leader then Peter. Not that Peter cannot do it if he wanted, oh he could, but Peter prefers playing pretend. He prefers pretending that he is grown up. If he was actually twelve years old, the irony would have been lost on him, but it is not. Not that it keeps him from feeling how he feels. He pretends he is grown up and Sealand pretends he is a Nation.

Maybe that was what all of this has been about in the first place. Maybe Sealand is not lying to him, maybe this is just a game that keeps them in existence. Peter thinks about it, wants to ask someone, but thinks that talking to it with Sealand would make him loose the game. And there is no one else to talk to.

It is lonely, so Peter plays pretend with pretend people. Not like the people England thinks he sees, Peter does not actually _believe_ they exist. It is just nice to pretend they do. He wonders whether being grown up would mean the loneliness would go away.

"It's part of being a Nation!"

Peter swallows.

"I'm sorry, Peter, but it's just what I am."

Sealand says it with a smile and Peter is comforted. Until it plagues his mind again, but forgetting is so easy.

Peter is, after all, only a child. Sealand is, and never forget this, only pretend.

* * *

_Next will be Greece, Sweden, Denmark, and others... I thank those who gave requests, to tell the truth Rome never came to mind, but I am certain it will be a fascinating write when I get there. There are a few people I am surprised no one has asked for yet, but we have enough time until then, I believe. Thank you._


	21. Greece

Heracles wishes to act, but Greece is content simply to doze through life.

That is not completely true. There are some things Greece will wake up for, move quickly for. Like arguing with Turkey. Greece will always have enough energy to fight with Turkey. Heracles tries to understand where that comes from, but it happens so quickly, so suddenly, that Greece is already angry and Heracles finds that he is tired of the entire predicament.

Tired. Heracles finds that _he_ becomes tired. Oh, what a laugh.

It is not that Heracles dislikes Greece (_he could never hate him, he knew him too well, or maybe it was the fact that they were simply too close and Heracles was not allowed to do anything but care for his other half_). Neither does he argue with him (_for how can one argue with exhaustion? With laziness? Heracles is not a monochronic person, far from, but there is a certain point at which he is certain that Greece is simply trying to avoid something_).

Was Greece always like this? Heracles finds it difficult to recall that far into the past. He cannot remember anything that is too different from now. It is all a blur, like a dream in his subconscious that is fading away with time.

Heracles finds that he does not remember nearly as much as Greece, that Greece has to remind him of things like he is constantly in a history class. Maybe it is because he is more Human than Greece. His mind cannot hold as much as Greece's, despite the fact that they share the same brain.

Yet Greece's facts seem to change. Maybe Greece cannot remember as much as Heracles used to think he could. For Heracles asks about their mother and there no longer seems to be any details. It is like Greece has forgotten what she looks like now. It has disappeared in the sands of time. It was another dream that she even existed.

Greece never seems to want to think about it too much. Heracles tries to grasp a hold of this idea and understand exactly what it is they are, if just to know why it is that he is simply a part of Greece's mind.

"_Japan_?"

"Yes, Greece-san?"

He was not Greece. He was Heracles. These things always bothered Heracles more than Greece. "_Do you ever think there is much more to us than meets a Nation's eye?_"

Japan stared at him for a few moments, wide eyes blank, before nodding. "Of course there is. There is no describing any of us easily, in any of our languages."

That was not what Heracles had meant. That was not what he had been asking. From the look on Japan's face, Heracles wondered if Japan actually knew what he was talking about. Greece told him later that he saw what he wished to see, there was no such understanding.

Greece says those words mournfully and Heracles understands that it is as much of a burden for him to hide Heracles as it is a burden for Heracles to remain as a secret. Why do they do this? Why does Heracles never push Greece to take this action?

Why does Heracles never take this action on his own?

"What would happen if I said you existed?"

"_I do not know. I want to know. I am afraid to know_," Heracles responded quietly.

Greece stared into the water thoughtfully as he washed the dust from one of his mother's old figurines. "Me too."

Maybe this is the case, Heracles thinks. Maybe Greece is not lazy – maybe the laziness is an excuse so he does not have to do the things which frighten him. Like face their existence. His and his subconsciousness did not seem to care. While in dreams, it did not matter.

Which was why, when Greece would sleep, Heracles would sleep too, instead of taking control of their body and doing the things he wished that Greece would do. Heracles wants to take action, but that is not true. He wants _Greece_ to take action. He does not want to do it himself. So both of them will just sleep.

Greece is content with this. Heracles is more scared by the pacification.


	22. Sweden

Berwald wonders just how content Sweden really is.

There was a time which he was not, Berwald remembers those years very well as if they are etched on his chest along with the scars they had received from their past. Time passes, however, and Berwald feels that they have fallen into something of a passive state. Berwald does not mind. Berwald prefers now, where he does not have to worry so much about battle and war.

He and Sweden are ready for it, if need be. Sweden will never allow them to fall and Berwald agrees wholeheartedly with him. He will never allow Sweden to fall.

Not that Sweden seems to need his help anymore. Sweden seems as content as he, a Nation, can possibly be. It is not as much as Humans are capable of, as Berwald as seen them. No one that has lived as long as they have could be so happy. But Berwald does not need to be happy, he just wants to strive to a certain amount of comfort.

Sometimes he gets tired.

Sweden does not. Berwald cannot understand how that is possible, but it has been such a long time since he has thought of questioning it. Sweden marches on and drags Berwald with him. Berwald is grateful for that, even though the both of them know Sweden has no choice. Sweden either drags Berwald with him or they both fall.

Berwald accepts this. Berwald accepts a lot. But within the last few years he has found himself wondering.

Is this really how content Sweden can be?

For Berwald can only be that content as well and Berwald is not satisfied. It is not enough. He has a hole within him that is shaped like someone and he knows it will stay empty. He does not strive to fill it with anything else. How could he? Nothing else will fit there.

Yet Sweden seems content.

If either of them were ever asked what was most important to them, Sweden has a list. Sweden has many things that are important to him. But the most important, the persona always mentioned, the one Berwald waits for him to say... it is the same for both of them.

"Finland."

"_Finland._"

Berwald wants to cry because he knows that these feelings are not reciprocated. Finland is always there. He is in reach. He is _just_ there, but Berwald knows that he will never bridge that gap because there is nothing to receive him on the other side.

Sweden never tells him he is being pessimistic. Sweden never talks about it. Still, it is Sweden who says "m'wife" and not Berwald. Berwald will never say that. It is the one thing Berwald cannot understand about Sweden, how Sweden never seems to realize that they are suffering from the same love, an unreciprocated love.

But Sweden is content. And Berwald cannot understand what it is that Sweden sees in their situation that would make him so. Berwald steps back and looks at the both of them the best he can, in a way he never used to. He never used to think about if they were different or alike. He had simply accepted it.

This is not something Berwald can accept though. So he tries to understand.

Is it that he is truly missing something that Sweden understands? (_It happens occasionally, he is not a Nation and therefore cannot completely comprehend it all._)

Or is it that Berwald's feelings are deeper in this situation than Sweden's?

"_Finland._"

"Oh! Su-san! How have you been?"

"'ll right."

_F_in_l_an_d._

Sweden knows more. But Berwald is too in love.


	23. Denmark

Matthias is trying to hear something Denmark will not.

He is not quite certain when this began. Neither of them had ever been good at hearing other people. When they were younger there was no one to listen to, no one who would listen to them. There was no point, then. Matthias helped Denmark dig his heels into the ground and make a place, make a stand, make a home. Just like every other Nation around them was trying to do.

They have survived, somehow. The early years mesh together and Matthias tries to remember what it was they were trying to accomplish at first. Denmark reminds him of the fun and Matthias agrees. He supposes it does not matter what they were trying to do, just what they did do.

They had so much.

Now so little. Matthias wants to take a moment to think about where it all went, but Denmark does not want to slow down so much. What is the point of figuring out what happened then?

"_I suppose not,_" Matthias shrugged, his voice quiet to Denmark as they watched their brothers across the table.

Denmark often reminds him of the advice given to them by Christian. They have always tried to live up to his standards, the entirety behind what he had wished. Matthias watches as things change right in front of his eyes and can still see the truth of that advice. Both will agree to live life to the fullest, because not doing so makes certain there is no chance of looking back with no regrets.

It is by accident that Matthias looks back and sees what has happened.

Sweden left.

Norway left.

Iceland left.

Matthias has suddenly realized that he has not been listening. They could have been saying something, he could have kept this from happening, but he was not listening. Matthias has begun to panic.

"Stop that!" Denmark shouts at him, staring at his eyes in the mirror. "Stop it! What is your problem? There's nothing wrong!"

"_You aren't listening!_" Matthias screams. Denmark tries to swing at him and Matthias ducks. But Denmark only hits the mirror and Matthias ducks nothing, simply slipping on the bathroom tile.

There is _something_ there, something they are missing. Matthias knows this. He tries to hear it as Denmark passes it by. He fights for control, just to stay still for a moment so he can catch it. Denmark is getting mad at him, Matthias knows, but if they can hear this (_whatever it is_) then Denmark will forgive him. This is for the best, for both of them.

People learn from the past, but Nations do not. Matthias realizes this and tries to learn for Denmark. Everyone left because they were not listening, he is sure of this. He will change this now.

"What is wrong, Denmark?" Norway asks and though Denmark says nothing is, he is obviously bothered by the question.

"I'm sorry."

"_That's okay._"

"Let's go out for a drink then! I'll buy!"

"_That's the same as me buying, stupid._"

Denmark tends to do that. Apologize and not actually take it back. Matthias knows this even before Denmark gets mad at him again for trying to stop and just _listen_.

Maybe if Matthias could tell him what he was trying to hear, Denmark would understand. Which is when Matthias realizes he has absolutely nothing to tell Denmark, no explanation. Because everything he knows, Denmark already knows. Denmark knows.

He panics again, he panics for a long time. This time, however, he realizes Denmark has pushed him into the back of his mind so that no one else can see this fear. More time has passed.

Suddenly, Matthias realizes he is nothing and therefore has nothing to hear. Denmark is real and chooses not to, not yet, maybe not ever. He will live and let live and move forward to make himself and his people happy. Matthias has always tried to help him accomplish this, but maybe he is not doing such a good job anymore.

Matthias is only a facet of Denmark's mind to help him understand Human.

* * *

_I wish to remind everyone these are all opinions of a Human's perception in a Nation's body, not really what is true._


	24. Egypt

Gupta knows the words which are locked in his head. Egypt does not seem to miss them.

They have always been quiet, talking a lot was never something either of them liked too much. Gupta remembers words leaving them enough however, being silent is not the same as quiet. There are things he wishes he could get across to others and words are necessary for that. Which is fine. It should be fine.

Yet he cannot.

Maybe it is because of language. Nations are worse than Humans in this respect. Not only do most of them speak a different language, they do not even understand each other (or maybe they simply refuse to?) when they are speaking the same language. Egypt watches them in silence and Gupta follows his example.

Maybe he is not as patient as Egypt. He wants to diffuse a situation, clarify something, say a _word_ while Egypt does not feel like he needs to draw attention to himself just yet. It is one of their few differences. Egypt has never hid anything from him and it is almost as though he can watch the other's thoughts go by. This is how he knows the other has little desire to speak. This is how he knows his own desire is somewhat alien to Egypt, who only speaks on occasion, almost when he feels like he must.

Egypt is not stopping him from speaking. Egypt lets Gupta do as he wants and Gupta allows the same. They are very good at sharing. They are two sides of one coin. While few ideas differed, they always came to a compromise. Egypt would never stop him from speaking.

Gupta simply _cannot_ get what he wants to say out. Egypt tries to help him, but Gupta cannot blame him for the lack of success in this area. Egypt naturally says nothing. Egypt does not say things he cannot take back, the accidents come out in his actions, letters, so on (no matter how this translates to their people).

"It's okay. Don't force yourself."

They share the same voice. Same mouth. It is the _same_.

Yet Gupta cannot get anything out.

Life moves on and so do the both of them. It is not a life shattering occurrence, it does not matter in the long run, and no one else knows or would eve care if they did. Gupta stays calm and Egypt occasionally tries to work him through it, though usually through a mental assurance, rather than anything verbal.

As Gupta is in Egypt's mind, and Egypt is in Gupta's, this does make the most sense.

_Don't worry. If the feeling takes you, say something. It does not matter where or when. When the words come, let them._

And Gupta is so glad for Egypt. This life may be long and hard, people may come and go, friends may become enemies and everyone hates each other, but he has Egypt and Egypt has him and he is glad for this. He does his best, as Egypt does, and while their idea of what is best sometimes differ, they try. They always try. They try with Libya and Sudan. They are now trying to help Israel and the Palestine Territories. They get along with Russia, America, Armenia, Italy, India... Turkey. Greece. (_As well as any Nations can get along, after all they all come first to themselves._)

While they enjoy the same company, Gupta still finds he wants to say something to them. To the people who once owned him, tried to own him, tried to help him, helped him.

Suddenly... _suddenly_!

Gupta realizes, through the fog of his memory, he has _never said anything_.

_That is not true._

But it is, he tries to make Egypt understand. He remembers talking, but he simply remembers this _body_ talking. He remembers Egypt saying things he agreed with, that he might have said as well if he had been the one to speak. Yet Gupta had said none of this. He had said nothing.

_It's all right. It is all right._

More than anything, Gupta wants to believe him.

Gupta wonders if he is real. Egypt assures him; they both are.

* * *

_Latvia/Raivis has been giving me a lot of trouble. So here is Egypt._


	25. Latvia

Raivis wishes that Latvia would shut up. Just for once.

Raivis is the one who shakes. He is the one scared with a great deal many things that surround him. No matter what happens, something in the back of Raivis' head tells him something bad is going to happen soon. But _soon_ is a concept of his he knows is skewed. Feeling Human while living in the body of a Nation. What constitutes as _soon_?

Then Latvia speaks.

It is not as if Latvia does not think before he talks. They confide in each other all the time and Raivis knows that their conversations are all in one head, so it could just be considered thinking, right? So he knows that Latvia thinks. Yet when words pour out of his mouth it is as if he has missed something. The situation around them, the context, _something_. And Raivis knows it is the wrong thing to say, but lacks the ability to stop him before Latvia has dropped them into a vat of trouble.

They have spent so much time in different places, different situations, all of which would end with Latvia saying something that would cause some sort of retribution. Lithuania and Poland's rule, being fought over by Poland and Sweden, the Era of Soviets...

Maybe it is Raivis who is missing something. But it is not Raivis who is getting them in trouble. So it cannot be him, can it?

But maybe it is because he shakes. Perhaps Latvia's words would not be so badly taken if Raivis was not trembling. This is what Raivis thinks Latvia will say if he asks, if he accuses, if he suggests that Latvia keep his god forsaken mouth _shut_.

Whenever Raivis even thinks that angrily he draws back from Latvia, from consciousness, just for a little bit so as to calm down. And he forgets about how angry it makes him and resumes trembling. At least he knows what will happen when he is trembling. It is one of the few things that Raivis knows for sure – that he has not forgotten over the many years he has survived.

Latvia says he will remember for him, all of the things Raivis forgets. Nations remember more than Humans, after all. Yet Raivis notes the things that Latvia cannot even see and wonders if that is true. Can Nations really remember more than Humans? Or are they the same, both destined to the same amount of decay in their memories?

After all, the real difference between the two that would have anything to do with memory is the fact Nations tended to live longer. Or, at least, _they_ had.

Thinking about it, Raivis is rather glad he does not remember what Latvia remembers. Whenever Latvia remembers something, he wants to drink more than he already has. Latvia likes to drink. He likes to drink lots. Raivis lets the fog of inebriation cloud his thoughts as well because he really had no choice in the matter.

"_W-why do you drink so much?_"

"Why not?"

Raivis wonders if this is how Latvia tries to cope. He tries to cope by drowning his sorrows and then tries to cope by acting (the few times he is in the position to step forward) as if nothing wrong will happen with what comes out of his mouth.

Then Russia's eyes flash. They are no longer under his rule, are they? Raivis cannot remember and practically vibrates with fear.

"Vhat is vrong? You zought zat vas funny, _da_?"

"_Of c-course not! I-I-I was thinking of s-s-something else c-completely!_"

There are probably many reasons for why Latvia speaks like he does. Why Latvia does not seem to consider what certain reactions might be. They have lived in pieces and shadows for so long.

Raivis tries to understand.

But in the end... Raivis just wishes that Latvia would _shut _his_ fucking mouth_.


	26. Turkey

Turkey has had many names. Sadiq has only ever had one.

It is confusing, what makes up a country. Why is Turkey... Turkey? Why did he not die when things change? How come the Ottoman Empire has been allowed to change when others die? Sadiq does not quite understand it. Not everyone gets to live this long. Sadiq looks around occasionally for a Caliphate when Turkey reminds him they do not have one anymore.

Sadiq cannot keep up with this. He hides behind the mask he placed on a creature once known as...?

"_We incorporated the Turks._"

"Turks incorporated Anatolia."

"_...really?_"

"Funny how it doesn't matter anymore."

"_We are Turks._"

Turkey's names have blurred together in Sadiq's mind.

He is not sure whether Turkey misses being the Ottoman Empire. Sadiq is not sure of much. It is a haze at times, a haze he does not mind because Turkey is very good at enjoying himself where he is. The Nation is passionate – just as Sadiq has always remembered and always hopes to be so. Hiding his eyes behind a mask covers none of this emotion.

It has been a long time, but Sadiq has yet to think he has had enough time. Turkey never tires (at least, not really, nothing he will ever admit to) and that energy carries Sadiq along.

Turkey is no longer the Ottoman Empire. He remembers fighting England, France (from the south), Italy, Armenia (from the east)... Greece.

It is funny how it does not matter how things fall apart. It does not seem to be a big deal now. Democracy works well in Turkey. There may be cries against that, but what do the other Nations know?

They are all hypocrites. And it is not like any of them are like Turkey. Turkey has Sadiq. Sadiq tells him what the people want, he is Human after all. He knows them better than anyone could. Which means he really does know better than the other countries who argue with him about whether he is doing the right thing or not. Sadiq is here, not there. Sadiq is the only one. He knows this. He remembers _her_ telling him so and breaking his heart.

(It means he can bother the sons of those dead women whatever because it does not really matter; if they are just Nations they can handle it Turkey has long since shown Sadiq he can handle more than Sadiq ever could... _he can put a mask on though, he can do that._)

Though if Greece could just stop claiming the goddamn _sea_... things would go a lot more smoothly. He certainly got that from his mother, yes. She was just as annoying.

Sometimes Sadiq wishes things were simpler and they could go to war over it. That had always made more sense than talking and talking and talking when they were doing more than just talking in two different languages. Sometimes Turkey agrees, sometimes not.

Then again, perhaps it is better just to wallow in words. Neither of them want to deal with a Nation screaming "genocide" again because of relocation and deportation. Honestly.

"What do ya know about me? Ya don't have any reason, any right, to say anythin' about me. What do ya know? What do ya know? Get outta my face."

Greece would glare. Hungary would scoff. Turkey would have said his piece.

Not even Sadiq likes Turkey when he gets angry.

After all, what does Sadiq even know? What does he know about Turkey? Everything. Everything and yet he still cannot understand him at times. But Turkey is a Nation and he is not, so that is okay.

But people continue to call their Nation man names, official or no. Turkey and Sadiq hear them all. For good or bad. They hear it and move on. Turkey does not care. And Sadiq...

Sadiq knows who he is.

Because Turkey is Turkey. Sadiq is the man behind the mask.


	27. Rome

Marcus knew he was free the moment Rome was trapped.

Roman Republic or Empire... It did not matter. It is still Rome. It comes down to one city – the heart of it all. Marcus' heart. It was weak and the Empire strengthens them. They fight and fight and only through fighting is there success. Glory. Survival. Approval. Marcus has always known how to live. Rome agrees with him. Or agreed.

Past tense. Marcus remembers this as everything fades. Past tense. Was, not is. Came, not come. Fought, not fight.

Marcus is free now. He is dying. And this is all that is left.

Rome coughs out blood. He is panicking and Marcus tries to reassure him because he does not like the feeling of panic. _Don't give in!_ They do not panic. They should not panic. It does not make sense.

This is not the way he wanted to go. He is a warrior and he should go out in battle! He will be remembered, they will be remembered... They will leave this world in the glory of battle! It is the only thing Marcus asks for, even whilst Rome struggles to remain the power of the world.

The struggle. That was what happened. There was a struggle.

_Don't lie, Rome. There was no struggle right now._

They have been struggling, though. Marcus did not even see it coming. Rome staggered with what he had. They allotted everything to others so they could remain standing. Marcus never looked at his scars like Rome did.

Maybe this is why Rome spent all that time thinking about his grandchildren recently. Maybe Rome saw it coming. Marcus had not.

He had just spoken with Ludovicus the other day.

"_This is the life, my friend!_"

Ludovicus stayed silent, but Marcus knew it was him. He had always been able to tell when it was Ludovicus. Ludovicus was his friend. Germania was a concept, like the Roman Empire. Ludovicus was a Human. Just like Marcus.

"_I should introduce you to her, she is well worth it even if she is not as... dour as you like your women~!_"

Ludovicus listened to him. There was the difference. Ludovicus was not just standing there and dealing with it, he was _listening_. Ludovicus was quiet, sure, but he listened. If Rome distracted himself, if Germania was ensconced... if their minds left them alone for even a moment they could look each other in the eyes.

_My friend, Ludovicus._

_Always, Marcus._

Then Germania (_Ludovicus Ludovicus Ludovicus?_) stabs them.

Marcus coughs out blood. Or is this Rome? Where is the line? There has always been a line? Marcus has always known where he stood between himself and his Nation. Marcus _knows_.

But now he does not.

Except for one unchanging fact that follows him into oblivion.

Rome was killed by a rival. Marcus was killed by a friend.


End file.
